


You Distract Me, But I'm Distracted Without You

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [29]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Ian likes to distract Mickey, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Tumblr: otpprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:18:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3800041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ian always did this. He always distracted him when it was important. It was both irritating and lustful, and Mickey didn't have enough effort to push him off."</p><p>((Imagine Person A of your OTP is trying to do something while person B is giving them playful little kisses and bites down on their neck and touching them teasingly.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Distract Me, But I'm Distracted Without You

**Author's Note:**

> love love love this prompt so had to do it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt me: im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com 
> 
> OR TELL ME WHAT U THINK, EITHER WAY AHAH

“What the fuck you doing?” Mickey exhales as he flips through letters after letters that revolve around their living situation. Ian was lazy and Mickey happened to love working out puzzles, (he could make a reference to Ian being a puzzle, but had that kid all worked out,) so it was his job to run through all the bills and payments, checking if they'd paid everything or had enough money to keep the apartment heated in the winter.

 

Ian has his lips skimming the side of Mickey's neck, running back up to his jaw. Ian always did this. He always distracted him when it was important. It was both irritating and lustful, and Mickey didn't have enough effort to push him off. “Nothing.” Ian giggled against his jaw, arms looping around Mickey's bare shoulders as he leaned over the back of the chair.

 

Mickey leans further into the table, his elbows resting against a pile of letters he still hadn't managed to read just yet. There's a pile of pancakes next to him, still untouched due to his immaculate concentration on the countless bills they had already paid. Ian had been playing this came non-stop all day, this needed to be done and Ian's soft, perfect fucking fingers were not challenging him. He pushes himself not to moan when Ian's hand dip lower among his bare chest, fingers hitting the trail of hair that led to Ian's favourite thing.

 

“What are _you_ doing?” Ian smirks, resting his chin against Mickey's shoulder. His hands are warm against Mickey's skin, the soft tender touch making him squirm against the wooden chair he's sat in. Mickey's eyes nearly roll back before he notices that these bills couldn't wait, they were already borderline a week late with everything so it needed to be done.

 

The older boy pushes Ian back a little, wincing a little when he hears Ian's elbow hit against the top of the chair. “I'm making sure we don't fucking freeze to death when the storm hits, so if you quick trying to distract me I'd be fucking grateful.” He shakes his head of any thoughts of getting Ian to bend him over the kitchen table, or the counter top, or the couch, maybe even the wooden chair he's sat on.

 

“You had syrup on you.” Ian answers innocently, leaning forward again as his lips latch to Mickey's jaw, tongue flicking over the razor cut that he caused when he decided reaching for Mickey's junk whilst shaving was a good idea. Mickey groans and tilts his face to the side in habit, giving Ian some easy access.

 

Biting at his lip, he locks his eyes back to what his first mission was. “Course I fucking did, you're full of shit Gallagher.” He laughs, again pushing Ian back. The words on the paper were all blurry and he guessed that was Ian's fault for driving adrenaline into his veins. It was like the bills were screaming out to him, telling him to just swivel the chair and pull Ian to his lap. But bills were bills, they had always been deceiving.

"And you taste good."

That's when Ian's lips trace lower, down to the side of Mickey's neck, his hands falling lower against Mickey's chest, stroking against his formed, toned abs. Ian hums against his neck, licking against the skin that Mickey already knew was marked. One of his hands can't help themselves and reaches up behind and grips to the back of Ian's head, tugging at the strands a little. “There isn't any fucking syrup there, Gallagher.” He manages to breath out.

 

Ian chuckles darkly against his skin, his lips moving further down to the top of his shoulder. “Yes, there is.” His mumbles sends a shock into Mickey's system, making him forget all about the bills sprawled out against the table and buckled his hips up in a desperate manner.

 

“Fuck you.” Mickey bites out, inhaling sharply as Ian sucks against the cave between his neck and his shoulder.

 

Ian shifts a little, biting softly against his pale skin. “Oh, I will.” As quickly as he could, Ian pulls the chair around so Mickey was facing him. Mickey couldn't stop looking at how pink and plump Ian's lips were, how his chest was slightly heaving, he couldn't miss the bulging wonder in Ian's sweats. Thank God for Ian not wearing any boxers under his sweats. Thank fucking God.

 

The redhead straddles his hips, his legs balancing on either side of the chair. Needful, his hands claw against Mickey's chest, his mouth roughly attacking Mickey's as if they were in the moment of passion and lust – despite the fact that they were always like that – Mickey's hand wrap around him, rounding around Ian's cushioned ass, his fingers dig into the skin in order to create that moan Mickey always fucking loved; the open mouthed, wide eyed, gasping desperately for air moan.

 

“I knew I should of wore a fucking shirt.” Mickey mumbles between kisses, his hips rolling against Ian's as the redhead rocked above him. Ian's arms wrap around his neck, drawing him closer so he was leaning forward on the chair, his chest colliding with Ian's. Ian sinks his teeth into Mickey's bottom lip, licking through the seam and latching their tongues together.

 

“I'm glad you didn't.”Ian whispers, his voice the softest Mickey had heard. Rough was good, like really fucking good. He loved it when Ian would command and push him against the wall like some military – porno, but this – the soft touches, the neediness, the silent but sharp groans and gasps, this was perfect.

 

Mickey traces the dip at the bottom of Ian's back, pushing beneath the waistband of his sweats to palm Ian's ass. The redhead groans against him, fingers running aggressively through his hair. The wind blows through the broken window and pile of bills fall to the floor, Mickey cuts off the kiss and looks down to where they landed. The redhead shifts to move, reaching down effortlessly to grab to bills until a sharp hand grips onto his wrist.

 

“Fuck the bills.” Mickey licks lips, knowing how much it would tease the other man.

 

Ian smirks, his eyes giving off that glint that Mickey knew meant he was done for. Effortlessly, Ian pushes himself of Mickey's lap and grips underneath the brunettes legs, without a struggle he roughly wraps Mickey's legs around his hips and pushes him onto the top of the kitchen table, the papers that had occupied it scrunching up around them. Mickey groans into the side of his neck, ass clenching for the feel of Ian's dick, his heel kicks into the cushion of Ian's ass.

 

The redhead tenderly kisses Mickey's cheekbone, but of course – his darkened voice still remained, his hands still firm at Mickey's thighs. “How about I fuck you  _on_ them instead?”

 

It all went pretty messy, Mickey ended up whacking his head off the top of the table, but as long as it made Ian laugh – it was okay. Mickey still needed to do the bills, he really did, but they could wait another couple of hours, (because it wasn't like Ian was taking his dick out any time soon.)


End file.
